(Southern Svetyland) Master vampire house. . .
•T–––M–––V–––P–––L•
Elizabeth was terrified. The unfamiliar surroundings unsettled her, and everyone around her seemed strange, especially the man who had grabbed her by the arms before leaving, calling her "delectable" as though she were a meal ready to be devoured.
"Leave us, Damien," said the Master Vampire—Elbert—to his nephew. "I'd like to talk to her."
Damien stepped away from Elizabeth, turning to her with a look of reassurance before he exited the room, leaving her alone with Elbert.
Elbert settled back into his seat, his eyes never leaving her as he studied her movements through his dark sunglasses. The way she hugged herself reminded him so much of someone from his past.
"Huh, who are you and what am I doing here?" Her voice was really calm and gentle, it also cracked a little. And the Master could tell she was scared.
"Don't be scared," Elbert said, standing up and walking toward her. "I found you unconscious and brought you here."
Elizabeth backed away, her brow creased in confusion. She didn't like how eerie the Master looked as he approached—his sunglasses, hoodie, and overall appearance exuded a strange, dangerous vibe. He looked like someone preparing for a heist.
"Please, don't come any closer," she managed to whisper as her back hit the wall. "Just stay where you are."
Sensing her fear, Elbert halted six feet from her. "I won't hurt you, I promise," he said, but then he began to move toward her again.
Elizabeth couldn't move any longer, trapped by the wall. There was nowhere she could go or turn to, and what made her petrified the most was the fact the stranger at her front kept moving towards her until they were a foot apart, close enough to feel each other's breath.
"You remind me of someone," he said softly, causing Elizabeth to jerk her head up in surprise. "Your face…It's— my."
Elizabeth couldn't stop staring at his concealed face—his eyes hidden behind the shades, his hair tucked under a beanie and hoodie. He radiated an unsettling, mysterious aura.
Tears began to cloud Elizabeth's eyes because she couldn't believe how things had turned out for her. Starting with attending a party which her best friend, Freya – who was nowhere to be found – then to Gabriel who assaulted her and possibly raped her, taking her virginity along. Then waking up to meet mysterious faces and…then the person at her front. However, she didn't cry.
Elbert reached out, his hand gently touching her cheek. "Your face...it's just like hers."
Elizabeth shut her eyes, her heart pounding in terror.
"Your hair…" Elbert removed his hand from her cheeks and ran his fingers through her long wavy black hair. "It's just like hers also, and– and the texture, it's the same."
Removing his hands from her hair, Elbert took it to her eyes which were closed tightly while Elizabeth's heart continued to beat loudly against its cage.
"Open your eyes, please," He pleaded gently, but Elizabeth didn't concur with him as she squeezed them shut even harder. "I won't pluck them out, just open them."
Still, Elizabeth didn't open it.
Elbert smiled. He couldn't blame her for being afraid—people were always scared of him. But deep down, he didn't want her to be. She reminded him too much of someone he had loved for as long as he could remember.
"I promise," Elbert's voice still remained calm as he spoke softly to Elizabeth. "I am one of the good guys and nothing would happen to you. So please just open your eyes."
Slowly, Elizabeth's racing heart began to calm. Something in his voice reassured her, and she gradually opened her eyes.
"Your eyes," Elbert whispered, as if in awe. "They're just like hers—warm honey, beautiful and innocent, which feel like I can see the world through them."
He lowered his hand from her eyes, trailing it down to her lips. Elizabeth gulped, her body tense.
"Your lips," he continued. "Just like hers. Plump, and the color of Fuchsia magellanica."
Elizabeth was confused on listening to all what the Master had said. She didn't understand everything he had been spewing.
"Camille," The Master breathed out, his shaky fingers tracing her lips. "You are Camille."
"No," Elizabeth said firmly. "I am not Camille."
"Then who are you?"
"Elizabeth Pott, and I am looking for my best friend."
Elbert frowned, retreating to his seat. Elizabeth exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Her eyes raked the room she was in, and it was vast lush with about six sofa's surrounding a chair that resembled a throne at the far end. She also took note of something; the room was windowless and the only source of light was the huge chandelier at the center of the room. Elizabeth could see there was no source of ventilation —which made her wonder how it was possible for the room to be cool without a proper source for one— then she noticed the AC at the far corner of the room.
"Come, have a seat," Elbert gestured, and Elizabeth hesitantly complied, her bare feet padding across the floor. "Do you have any questions?"
"Yes," she nodded. "What happened to Freya? And Gabriel?"
"Freya?" Elbert asked, confused.
"Yes, we went to the party together."
"I only found you unconscious," he replied.
Elizabeth shook her head, and faced the Master. "I don't understand, I went to that party with my best friend — Freya, and I was about to leave when I saw Gabriel, after that I can't remember anything more. How did I get here?"
"I brought you here," Elbert repeated. "You really don't remember anything?"
"No," she said, rubbing her hands together. The thin dress she wore did little to warm her. "And... did Gabriel... did he rape me?"
"Who?"
"Gabriel. Did he?" Once again, tears were starting to fill Elizabeth's eyes.
"Why do you think that?"
Elizabeth averted her gaze, her voice trembling. "I'm not wearing any panties."
"Come closer," Elbert ordered gently.
Elizabeth stood up begrudgingly and hearkened to the Master's words, leaving at least five feet between them.
"Come closer," he urged her on.
Elizabeth moved a foot forward.
"Closer," he said.
Elizabeth moved another foot forward.
"Closer still."
She nodded and moved two more feet. She was in close proximity to the Master, just two inches away.
"Close your eyes," he instructed, and despite her uncertainty, she obeyed.
Elbert placed his hands on her temples, sifting through the fragmented memories she couldn't recall. He saw everything—the party, Gabriel, and the moment Elizabeth was assaulted, though not raped. Instead, a younger werewolf had removed her panties and handed them to someone whose face was obscured.
"Place the mark on her," the unknown figure had ordered, and the young werewolf had bitten Elizabeth's shoulder.
Elbert's hands dropped from her temples, his gaze shifting to her shoulder, close to her neck, where a mark lingered.
The mark oddly resembled a skull.
To Be Continued. . .